


Right Place, Right Time

by PopiaSimp



Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: Copia saves reader from aliven't, Depression, Gen, I wrote this to vent and i just.. yeah., Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-14 17:01:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29545542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PopiaSimp/pseuds/PopiaSimp
Summary: All you wanted was for everything to just stop... and just when you almost had it, you had just one more thing weighing you down... and you realize that you were so, so grateful for it.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	Right Place, Right Time

**Author's Note:**

> TW for suicide attempt and depression  
> haha vent writing that i know people could relate to wanting, hahaaaa

You were so tired of being tired. 

You were so, so tired…

Tired of being like this. Tired of feeling these feelings. Tired of waking up and wanting to be dead. Tired of looking at every passing bus and semi truck as you walked down the road from your dead end job that barely got you by.

Once you got off your shift, you just… started walking. You didn’t stop when you got to your apartment building… you just kept going. You kept walking to the tallest building you knew of with open roof access… you were done.

Done being tired. 

Done being depressed.

Done living.

You don’t remember the amount of steps you went up. Your legs were shaking from the repeated motion, stair after stair until you got to the roof. The sun was already below the horizon, and you looked out at the sunset, having accepted it as your last hours earlier, before the sun even started to lower.

You stood there, on the edge of that roof, for what felt like an eternity. Looking over the city you called home, where you’d never felt more alone around thousands of people. You had no one… you had nothing… all you had to do was take that one last step.

Your legs started to buckle beneath you, and you hold one foot out above the empty air, ready to take your last step alive when you felt a hand, tightly gripping onto your wrist. A voice calls out, quiet, but strong.

“Don’t.”

You don’t even turn around. You just want it to be over with. Your foot drops back down to the ledge, and you pull at your wrist, trying to worm it free, but the hand holding it is so, so tight… it doesn’t hurt you, but you wouldn’t care if it did. What’s one moment of pain before you end up splattered on the pavement below?

“Please, this isn’t what you want.” the voice says again, and you’re too tired to respond. All you can do is writhe your arm loosely around in their grip, trying to get away from the only thing locking you to this god forsaken world.

“Let go.” you beg, voice strained and soft.

“I won’t.” they reply, and you try to yank at your arm, but it doesn’t move, this time. 

“Let. Go.” you repeat, and they stay silent.

You give one more  _ hard _ tug on the arm they’re holding, and they tug back, pulling you off the ledge and back down onto the roof. You scream, and you’re not sure why, considering you wouldn’t have screamed if you went off the other way…

“You didn’t want to do that.” the voice says, and you finally wrench your arm free from their grip, turning around to see some idiot with black paint around their eyes, a shitty little mustache and… a cape. This fucker was wearing a cape. What the fuck.

“As if I wanted to be fucking saved by modern day dracula.” you snap, and you immediately turn to run back to the ledge, but they grab you and pull you against themself, squeezing you in the closest thing you’ve had to a hug in years. You freeze, and they lower you down so your feet are on the roof again, their grip softening.

Your mind is so fucking  _ empty. _ You were just set on never having to think another thought in your life and now all you’re thinking is that you’re sitting here in a stranger’s arms, and you start to shake, tears streaming down your face as you turn and bury your face into their chest. After a still moment, you throw your arms around them and start to  **_sob_ ** , feeling their grip around you tightening again.

Your legs finally give out from under you, and you sink to the dirty, pebble covered roof with this stranger, silent screams leaving you as you cling to them as tightly as you can. You have no idea how long this lasts, lost in your meltdown, but you hear what they tell you throughout the whole ordeal.

“You’re okay now. It’ll all be okay.”   
“You’re alright. Let it out.”   
“I’m here for you, I’ve got you.”  
“You’re still here. You’re here.”

After what has to be hours, you finally look up at this stranger, finally seeing them fully, and without the malice you once had. They had freckles, all over… one eye was green, and the other was… white…? They had… they had a kind of charm to them…

You were a mess, going to rub your face with your shirt when they hand you a monogrammed handkerchief. You wipe your eyes and blow your nose into it, figuring you.. Probably shouldn’t give it back to them dirty, so you just hold it in your hand, folded so nothing gross was coming out of it… as you looked around, you realize you’re… kind of in their lap. But you look up again, and sniffle, stuffily asking “Wh… What’s your name…?”

They seem confused by that, only for a moment, but they run a hand through your hair and reply “Copia.” Weird name for a weird person, apparently, but… if it weren’t for them, you wouldn’t be alive… and you’re realizing now how bad that would have been.

“Th-Thank you, Copia…” you mumble, looking down at your hands before you look back up to them. “Y-You were… r-right…”

They tilt their head, and then it hits them. “When I said you did not want to do… that.” they muse, and you nod, a tiny twinking in the back of your rather empty head realizing that they had an accent… but you were far too tired to mention it.

“Y-Yeah…” you sigh, and it falls silent for a moment. Well.. besides your sniffling. A breeze hits the rooftop, and you shiver, to which they shift to wrap their cape around you, as well as themself. 

“Where do you live? I can walk you home…” they ask, and you sigh, pointing back towards your apartment building. 

“I, um.. I live a few blocks down that way…” you reply, and they slowly help you stand up, giving you a few soft praises along the way. They move at your pace, slow and gentle, as they lead you back down from the roof. You give the ledge you’d stood on one last glance before you follow them down the stairs, although you can barely handle more than a dozen.

Your legs give out again, and they tighten the protective arm they had around you to keep you from falling. They bend down a bit to pick you up, arm hooking under your knees as they carry you effortlessly down the rest of the stairs. You expected to be put down once they’d gotten to the ground level, but they just kept walking. 

You guide them to your apartment building and even up to your unit, truly not expecting the person who just saved you from killing yourself to take the job into their own hands. They set you down, but brace you, as you dig through your pockets to find your keys, finally unlocking your door and turning to look at them as you stood in the doorway. You simply stare at each other for a second before you murmur “Thank you, again, Copia… you… you really…”

They lift a hand, finger pointed up to stop you. “You don’t need to say it. I was simply in the right place at the right time, hm?” they say, and you nod, although you shiver again. You glance back into your apartment and realize you’d left a window open before you left, which was… very smart… but as you turn your eyes back to the stranger, they wrap… their cape.. around your shoulders. They fasten the collar of it around your neck and pat your shoulders, gently, before quickly pulling their hands back and patting their pockets. 

They honestly just stand there for a second, patting their pockets and looking lost, before they feel one of the pockets on the inside of their jacket and laugh quietly, handing you a small, black card. “If you need someone to talk to, I am always available. And--... please do not think this is in a flirting manner, I am not trying to take advantage of an emotionally compromised person, I--”

You repeat the same motion they’d done to you, holding a finger up and taking the card. It had their number, name and the… address of a church, on it… Cardinal Copia. The name was vaguely familiar, but you can’t think right now… you just give another small “Thank you…” before they nod and turn, and you ask “Wh-What about your cape?”   
  
“You need it much more than I do. Please. I am sure this is not the last we shall see of each other.” they reply, waving as they saw themself out. You just… close your door, and go to close the window before you settle onto your bed. You wrap yourself in that cloak, holding the card, and the handkerchief, tightly… you aren’t even sure when, but you fall asleep there, and wake up sprawled across the bed, being mildly choked by the cape still around your neck.

It takes you a moment to remember what all happened, but you look to the card, and fish your phone out of your pocket, tapping the numbers in and sending a text.   
  
_ “I’m still here… thanks to you.” _

You set your phone down and look over the three items you had of Copia, figuring you should wash the handkerchief and.. Just try to take care of the cape until you could give them back. You’re dragged out of your thoughts as your phone  _ beep beep beep _ s, and you grab it immediately.

_ “You give me all the credit, but even you fought that part of yourself last night. Instead of thanking me, thank yourself, and tell yourself how much you matter. -CC” _

You admittedly roll your eyes at that, having heard that from all your therapist friends, actual therapists, and random strangers, now… but from Copia… you’re more inclined to actually do it, and you don’t know why… so you go to your bathroom, and stare yourself in the mirror.

“Thank you.” you tell your reflection, and it almost hurts to say, to hear… but you keep going. “You… You matter… even if you don’t think so… even if you don’t think so, even if no one else thinks so…” Tears start to well in your eyes, and you wipe them off with your sleeve, pulling your phone up again.   
  
_ “There. I talked to my mirror. To myself, in the mirror.” _ you send, and you’re still sitting there looking at yourself when they reply.

_ “Just the first step towards a life where you will learn to appreciate yourself as much as you deserve to be appreciated. I am proud of you! -CC” _

More tears come at that message, and you groan, not wanting to add to the headache you woke up with, with one from crying as well. You rub your eyes with one hand as you reply with the other.

_ “When can I give you back your stuff? I feel bad having it.” _

You have enough time to splash some water on your face, being careful not to get it on the cape you just can’t seem to take off. You jump at the sound of your phone vibrating on the counter, but you walk over to it as you finish drying your face.    
  
_ “You do not need to worry about that. Take these next few days to recover, and be kind to yourself. I will be here if you need to talk, and we can figure out the details to return the items if you truly need to. As far as I am concerned, they were a gift to you that I do not need back. -CC” _

_ “Copia… what am I going to do with a cape and a handkerchief with your initials on it?” _ Besides remember a night you partially want to forget...

_ “Whatever you like. I am more than happy to leave them with you if it will keep me from finding you on another rooftop. -CC” _

You sigh softly and settle back into your bed, wrapped in the cape as tightly as you can be… it still smelled like them…

_ “Thank you, Copia.” _

_ “You are welcome. Do not be too hard on yourself in the coming days. -CC” _


End file.
